


Everything I feel returns to you somehow

by it_was_so_human



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_was_so_human/pseuds/it_was_so_human
Summary: There are many reasons the Silent Sisters unsettle him. But above all else, it is because they remind him of his own sins. AU.





	Everything I feel returns to you somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Contains brief reference to sexual assault.

They entered Winterfell in a single file line. Silently as their name would ordain. Shrouded in cloaks and cowls of gray. 

And an air of unease.

Come to attend to the dead, care for the injured.

The North might adhere to the Old gods, but many who came to fight the Great War would find solace from the New.

As the New Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North (titles given by his Queen Aunt’s royal decree and shaky lineage claims) he should not be disdainful of any help.

But the Silent Sisters had always made him uncomfortable, their appearance was _unsettling_.

As a former brother of the night’s watch, it wasn’t the idea of an order, or a vow, or celibacy that unnerved him.

Maybe because he was raised under the Old gods, the traditions of the Seven would always seem odd. But the Sisters seemed so… sorrowful.

Or maybe it was because they _felt like death_. Wrapped and veiled in the sensation of it.

(He had returned from death, and even _he_ couldn’t shake the dread they invoked.)

He sees one Sister break rank, and move towards the castle walls.

A pale hand reached out to stroke the wall, almost reverently grazing over the stones that made Winterfell.

As if she feels his eyes on him, she turns toward him and he is taken aback for a moment.

Her eyes so blue, a beautiful _familiar_ blue.

He tries to get closer, but she is already gone. Disappeared among the others.

He shakes his head.

There are many reasons the Sisters unsettled him.

But above all else, it was because they reminded him of his own sins.

\- - -

He was told Sansa was forced to join the Silent Sisters after Petyr Baelish and the Vale’s failed attempt at retaking Winterfell.

A way to prevent anyone else who would use her to get Winterfell. Like a Brother of the Night's Watch she was stripped of her Stark name and any claim. Not killing her was a courtesy to keep Northern resentment contained.

But he thought his sister was safe, _safe enough_ , for who would harm a wife of the Stranger?

He told himself that his discomfort around the Sisters were unfounded; it was a peaceful order albeit one demanding a solitary existence. They did good works and were cared for by the Faith.

(And no sane man would hurt a sister.)

Sansa was raised under the Faith, maybe she found solace and comfort in being a sister. After all women did often volunteer.

(But Sansa had no choice, she had been _forced_.)

((Punished again for the deeds of the men around her.))

He was so sure he would have found her again if he survived the war. So sure.

Would bring her home himself if that was what she wanted.

But he forgot that war was never truly contained just to the battlefield.

He already had an army by then. Already retook Winterfell. Was working on mining dragonglass and preparing for the invasion from beyond the wall.

Didn't send anyone to retrieve her, didn't use his _great armies_ to bring her home.

He was focused on the great threat.

Did not need his soldiers frightened of some unnamed curse of the Stranger for stealing one of his pledged brides. Not as they walked into the coming storm.

But he is ashamed when he asks himself that if it was Arya who was tucked away in a Sept, would he have acted quicker?

(There’s a dark part of him that whispers, perhaps he didn’t save her because deep down he worried Sansa would be able to usurp his feeble claim to the North. But no, no that wasn’t it. _That wasn’t it at all._ )

((He would tear his Lord’s cloak to shreds, _place the North at her feet_ if it could bring her back.))

\- - -

He's thinking more of Sansa now than he has in ages, perhaps more than he ever has.

(And that's probably why she is dead.)

He has thought endlessly about his brothers. He saw Bran disappear as the three-eyed-raven, was fighting by Arya’s side when she died.

He did not give much thought to Sansa. He just _couldn't_.  

But now he imagines what it was like for her, joining the order.

His radiant little sister, stripped of the beautiful dresses she loved and the ballads she joyed in singing.

(Did they truly cut out her tongue?)

Living a life never allowed to speak, never making eye contact with another. People avoiding her like she was death itself.

A perfect lady, even when her hair was in two plaits, made to scrub bodies and boil flesh from bones.

As children they had teased her mercilessly for her fanciful and overly obedient ways. But he could only remember the way her face would brighten over tiny little pretty things or how she would give him delicate advice on courtly ways.

Then he heard the news of what had happened.

Sisters raped and murdered or carried away by plague. All the septs burned to the ground,

It has been years now. But he rubs an ache in his chest as he remembers that she was probably in pain and alone when she died.

Had she heard he reclaimed the North? Did she know her brother would not come for her?

(Was she angry? Saddened? Or worse, _was she not surprised_?)

\- - -

He feels a need to visit his family. His fath— _uncle_ , his cousins.

(There was nothing of Sansa in the crypt, no bones of hers to put to rest. Yet another transgression added to his long list.)

He sees a Sister kneeling by the tomb of his family and his frustration rises. He does not want one of _them_ to be _here_.

As if his anger radiated, she seems to feel it and quickly scrambles to stand up.

And he is ashamed. He does not want to intimidate a helpless woman. That is not his intention.  

It is not her fault of what (of _who_ ) she reminds him.  

She was probably entrusted to give some blessings.

“No, it’s fine. You can stay."

Her head is cast down, and she lightly shakes it “no” before scurrying away.

\- - - 

And the next time he looks for calm he finds that Sister again.

Sitting by the Weirwood tree.

As if immune to the snow and cold around her.

 Why is this one haunting him?

He can’t see her face save her eyes, which were closed. But she seemed so peaceful. He couldn’t disturb her.

He could have sworn she was smiling underneath her veil.

Even Sisters get time for contemplation and rest.

(Brothers of the Night’s Watch or Sisters of the Faith. They were just people underneath their vows and cloaks.)

He walks away.

But what _was_ she doing there. Why would someone of the Faith come a godswood?

He looks back and sees her eyes following him.

Those hauntingly familiar blue eyes again.

\- - -

When he does his rounds surveying the injured, he sees her again.

He knows it’s the same Sister despite their uniformed unchanging attire.

She was significantly taller than the other and lithe, with strangely elegant dignity while helping her patient.

The charge she is tending groans in pain, and reaches for her, pulling her cowl down.

Jon can hear his own heart hammering when he sees a flash of red hair slipping out before the Sister quickly pulls it back.

It can’t be. It _can’t_ be her.

(He just wishes it were so.)

\- - -

He is obsessing over a Sister of the Faith, and it is crass and unnatural.

He finds that one again (the blue-eyed red-haired one). She is scrubbing clean strips of bandages.

And he leaves a lemon cake in front of her.

An offering. (But perhaps also a prayer, a small spark of hope, he could not admit even to himself.)

She looks taken aback, her _blue blue_ eyes widened with panic but only for a moment.

She goes back to her work.

When he returns later, she is gone and the little cake is still there

But he notes a small corner piece was missing.

\- - - 

He is injured while practicing in the training yard.

Embarrassing in a way that he survived war and the Night King, only to be concussed by a child of twelve.

The Maester is gone to winter town. And so it is his Sister who is sent to help him.

And after she is done attending to his cuts and bruises and he is made comfortable on his bed, she makes to leave.

He is behaving shamelessly.

But he grabs for her. At first she seems fearful, but eases when she realizes his intention.  

So he holds her hand. It is warm, her fingers long and elegant, slightly calloused and coarse but beautiful.

And she grips his hand back just as tightly.

She is not his sister. _He knows this._

But perhaps she knew of her. Had heard of a young Lady from the North, a former Lannister bride, and niece of the Vale?

The blood of Winterfell?

_Did you know a Sansa Stark? Did you see her? Do you know what happened to her?_

_(Do you think she would forgive me?)_

But instead he fights sleep that creeps from the herbs and comfortable silence.

His knuckles are turning white, but he does not let go.

It feels too good.

\- - -

At night he hears a knock on his door.

He opens it to see his Sister again.

She is probably there to check in on him.

But he’s not thinking.

In his haze, he sees Sansa. Pretty lady-like gentle Sansa.

He wraps his arms around her, and feels her go slack against him.

She is shaking and he feels silent sobs.

He feels it, suddenly _knows it_.

_Sansa._

Is she scared of him? He holds her closer, trying to convey to that _she is safe_.

"Oh my girl, my sweet girl," he whispers to her.

Oh gods, she is _shaking_ but she buries her head against his chest.

And he hears it.

A voice, so quiet and hoarse and unpracticed.

_"Jon."_

**Author's Note:**

> Gah, I realize this seemed like a far better idea for story when I couldn’t sleep last night at 3am. I just needed it out of my system!
> 
> Let's be friends on tumblr! I'm that-was-so-human


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